Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bosnia Herzegovina and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Marine Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Section 25,
The Blackbyrds,
La Düsseldorf,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
The Walker Brothers,
The Kinks,
Can,
Reuben Wilson,
Flash Fearless,
Juan Atkins,
Brass Construction,
the Bar-Kays,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Y Pants,
The Gap Band,
Blossom Toes,
Schoolly D,
The Sound,
Nico,
Hoover,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultravox,
Anthony Braxton,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Average White Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tears for Fears,
Fat Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül,
Royal Trux,
Sun City Girls,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q and Not U,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Ice-T,
Livin' Joy,
The Red Krayola,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Certain Ratio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Slits,
Andrew Hill,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.